


what the water gave me

by diluculum



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Body Horror, M/M, medium burn?, mild injury talk so far. just in case. it's only a little gross, raihan is plagued by homoerotic dreams, rating definitely subject to change, some gore talk. just a little
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:14:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diluculum/pseuds/diluculum
Summary: Despite the fact that she declined the offer to become the ship's resident sea witch, Raihan makes a mental note to thank Nessa next time he's in Hulbury for the luck she bestowed upon him. "Well. That's… something, alright."
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan, Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers, Dande | Leon/Nezu | Piers, Kibana | Raihan/Nezu | Piers
Comments: 36
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Am I trying to be SOMEWHAT vaguely historically accurate? Yes. Am I succeeding? Perhaps. Am I gonna try to do that with the mannerisms of characters? Fuck no I didn't live in the 1680s and I'm not starting now. Getting pirate ships right is one thing but I draw the line at not being allowed to swear and do weird shit as much as I want  
> im dying at the fact that i happened to finish this like. a day after someone else posted the start of their pirate au. what are the odds haha  
> this and probably like. the next idk ten or so things i post will probably be stuff that's been in progress since. late january. cause i got writers block super hard which sucked but hey we back now boys  
> i have a loose plan for this that's probably gonna come together more as i go along because im writing it WILDLY out of order so some chapters will probably be up faster than others. so far it's falling into place pretty nicely tbh  
> you will not believe how much time i spent researching ships and other tiny details for such little payoff it's literally embarrassing  
> excuse any typos ill probably find them when i read this for the billionth time i just got struck by inspiration enough to actually finish the first chapter  
> probably isn't good but it is what it is  
> title subject to change cause i can't think of anything Actually Good

Raihan shields his eyes from the sun and tries to focus on what, exactly, four members of his crew are carrying across the gangplank. He's about to shout for someone to check on it before a deckhand bolts up to him. "Captain, I think you should come see this," he says between labored breaths, and Raihan nods, starting off in that direction. 

If you asked Raihan later, he wouldn't admit it, but he bounds down the stairs of the quarterdeck two at a time, suddenly eager to see what's so important. There's really no  _ reason _ for him to run, considering the four crewmen set down their quarry so that one could stretch his back. Raihan isn't quite sure what to expect,but it's surely valuable if his men thought it important enough to bring aboard with that size. "What's all this, then?" he calls once he's in earshot, skidding to a walk a few feet away. 

"See for yourself. You wouldn't believe us if we told you." The other three nod and murmur in agreement, and Raihan's now close enough to tell they're all pale as ghosts. 

When he looks down, Raihan has to blink a few times to make sure he's seeing right, even though the sun is too high overhead to play tricks on his eyes. It's a figure. 

Curled up in the bottom of the wooden tub, in bloody water, is a siren. It's unmistakable, despite how tightly they're curled up and how their hair hides almost their entire human half from view. Their tail and hair are both marbled black and white- Raihan assumes, at least, since they’re dyed orange-red from the water- and he has to look a little closer to discern where one ends and the other begins. Despite the fact that she declined the offer to become the ship's resident sea witch, Raihan makes a mental note to thank Nessa next time he's in Hulbury for the luck she bestowed upon him. "Well. That's… something, alright." He's disturbed by how quickly the gears in his mind set to spinning, trying to figure out exactly how much this thing would be worth. Not much, if it's injured. And that's a relief, seeing as selling something close to a human rubs him severely in the wrong way. "Put it in my cabin," he says, turning on his heel to walk back to the quarterdeck, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. "I'll figure it out from there."

-

Something is touching Piers's caudal fin. Some _ one _ . His fin slowly flexes when he tries to swat them away, his body too taxed from pain and whatever's causing it to move properly. 

"Ah. He lives." The voice is unfamiliar, but the language isn't. It's been ages since Piers heard anything in English. 

His body catches up with his mind much slower than he'd like, but it eventually does, and he slaps the hand of whoever's bothering him with his fin. Even that slight movement hurts like hell, and he suppresses a wince. 

"Ow."

Piers mutters something in his mother tongue, but gets confused silence in response. So he says it louder, figuring they just didn't hear. 

"Uh… in English?" 

It occurs to Piers that his body feels heavier. Not the same weightless feeling of being underwater, but still dreadfully familiar. Combined with the fact that he's just been asked to speak a language he hasn't heard in years, it's more than enough cause for alarm. His eyes snap open, and he's faced with the ceiling of a lavishly decorated cabin. Very different from the barren room he briefly was conscious in before being knocked out again. His mind races, and immediately lands on the worst of possibilities. He's been sold. "I  _ said _ , don't touch me," he snarls, shifting so his body presses against the far wall of the wooden tub he's in and glaring at the man in front of him, tendrils of hair raising defensively around him. The man is sitting on a stool, head leaning on one hand, and, given that he's dressed in relatively fine clothes compared to the nigh-roughspun attire typical of shiphands,- long blue coat, poet blouse, tailored black breeches- Piers would bet his backbone he's the captain of this ship. He looks half interested, half bored, but the interest is visibly starting to win over. "What the hell am I doing here?"

The Captain clearly wasn't really expecting to get an answer he could understand, so it takes a second for him to collect himself. "Well, not sure what exactly caused  _ that _ ," he gestures vaguely at the middle of Piers's tail, and Piers realizes there's damn near a  _ hole _ just above where his knees would be, had he legs. It doesn't go more than a handful of inches in and is about as wide, but it's ripped enough muscle that it would make Piers a sitting duck if he were in the water. Not that he isn't on land, which is arguably worse. At least nothing will try to kill him here. He thinks. The water isn't as heinously bloodstained as last time he saw, despite being half conscious, meaning someone took the time to actually change it. And it's fresh; no salt stings his wound. Treatment Piers only finds more suspicious, since he assumes he's become someone's investment. "But the short of it is, someone tried to board us, got their arse handed to them, and we found you. We couldn't very well leave you on a sinking ship-" the man pauses for a second because he realizes the statement he just made was absolutely abysmal. "...So, we brought you aboard. You're welcome, by the way."

All Piers does is level the pirate with a glare and cross his arms. 

"Well, someone's awful moody, considering he might've just been saved from getting sold, or worse."

"How do I know  _ this _ ," Piers gestures around the room, "isn't included in  _ or worse _ ? All y'are is spineless, selfish bastards."

"I'll have you know my crew--" 

"Not your damn crew! All'a you! Pirates.  _ Humans _ . The only thing your kind does is cause trouble." 

"Damn. Here I was, about to let you heal and go on your merry way. Maybe I  _ should _ sell you." The man's tone is more playful than anything, and Piers can't sense any legitimate desire behind that statement. 

"You won't."

"Fine, I won't. Sue me." The pirate crosses one knee over the other, sitting up straight. He's much taller than Piers realized. "You're gonna be here awhile, I guess, so we should start with names. Mine's Raihan." The man-  _ Raihan _ \- seems expectant, but Piers stares blankly.

"Piers. What was that about me staying?"

"You're hurt."

"That's irrelevant."

"What do you plan to do? Walk off?"

Piers scoffs, sinking down in the water and pulling on the pendant of his choker. "Dunno. Maybe." 

"Heh. Yeah, no. You're staying put until you're well enough to move.  _ Then _ you can go. Can't let a shark mangle that pretty face." A smile crosses Raihan's face, but Piers doesn't see, too preoccupied with staring at the opposite wall with slightly widened eyes and pink cheeks. 

"Sharks're smart enough not to fuck with us," he mumbles, hair whipping against the side of his tub anxiously since he can't move his fin without it hurting. “You done botherin’ me yet?”

“Suppose I am.” Raihan stretches and stands, heading for the door and waving over his shoulder. “Be seeing you, Piers.”

“Unfortunately,” Piers mutters to himself as the door shuts.

-

Two days pass, and Raihan is, unfortunately, charismatic enough that he's easy to talk to. Piers stops trying to ignore his attempts at small talk when he happens to be in his cabin at some point, and whether it's because he's fed up or lonely he doesn't know. 

"When do you think I can leave?" is his first attempt at sparking conversation himself, and it's mostly because he's tired of sitting around doing nothing but sleeping or listening to the occasional clamor outside and Raihan's babbling. 

"Dunno how fast sirens heal. You do. What do you think?"

"Now's fine." 

"Can you actually move yet?" Piers doesn't even have to try to know that the answer is no. Most of his severed muscle fibers have started to repair themselves, but not nearly enough that he'd have full mobility without hurting himself further. It's a few more days, at least. “I’m taking your silence as a no, for the record.”

“Piss off.” Piers sighs. “Fine. No. It’s gonna be a little while longer.” He’s underselling it severely, but he doesn’t want to let on how long it actually might take because  _ goddammit, he wants to go home _ . 

“Great,” Raihan says as he turns the chair at his desk to face Piers, the noise from the legs scraping the floor causing Piers to cringe. “I get to annoy you more.”

“Don’t you have  _ anything  _ better to do?”

“Not at the moment. Course’s charted, Sebastian’s got everything covered on deck right now. I’m as bored as you are.” That’s a vast overstatement. At least Raihan can actually walk around. And isn’t constantly on the verge of getting a cramp from being confined to a small space. 

“As if.”

Silence for a few minutes. For all Raihan’s talk of annoying Piers, he seems to have run out of material. Genuine curiosity wins over. “How much do you know about pirates, anyway? Or humans, even. You said something about us being selfish and, uh, last time I checked, what I’m doing isn’t exactly selfish.” 

“More than most. Enough about humans to know that you’re an outlier, and enough about pirates to know that the Gold Lion puts you all to shame.” Piers doesn’t think much of his statement, but gives Raihan a sidelong glance when he realizes he’s stunned him into silence. “What?”

"You know of Leon, but you don't know of  _ me _ ?" Raihan sounds taken aback, his expression absolutely scandalized as he places a hand on his chest. 

"Everyone who's  _ anyone _ knows who Leon is. I'm sure it's the same up here too." Sirens far and wide know who he is, and, despite his knack for being amiable, they know to avoid him. Working for the Governor only makes him a hazard. The few who have encountered him found the experience positive, but made a point of not having it happen a second time once they saw the pin on his coat. 

Raihan crosses his arms, bitterly muttering, "Everyone who's anyone knows who  _ I _ am, too," to himself. 

Piers snorts. "Not really the case, but whatever."

"His rival? The  _ Bronze Dragon _ ? You have to have heard of me. I'm the best known pirate on this half of the planet!"

"No, Leon is."

Waving a hand dismissively, Raihan shakes his head. "He's a  _ privateer _ ." 

"Semantics."

"There's a difference." 

"Not a big one. Regardless, not everyone cares about second best." Piers crows a laugh when Raihan makes an exasperated noise and throws up his hands before walking out of the room. 

"Don't know why I bother!" 

He stops laughing when he hears a key turn in the lock on the door, flopping against the outer edge of his tub. "Seriously?" It's not like he can go anywhere in the first place. There go his hopes of one of the deckhands taking pity on him and helping him break out, though they were practically undersea to begin with. 

The next few hours are as mind-numbingly boring as ever, until he hears music from outside. It isn’t half bad, though the violinist isn’t having the best time with his high notes and the shrillness of the flute is giving Piers a headache. At least they can carry a tune. He spends the next hour trying to decipher the words through the wall, because, hell, what else does he have to do? A few of the shanties he’s heard before from times he strayed a little close to the surface, and he mumbles what he remembers of the words along with them. When Raihan returns to retire, Piers mumbles something about needing better musicians, already half asleep. 

Raihan scoffs. “You sirens don’t have the best of manners, do you?”

“Neither do the likes of you.”

“I’m better than most.”

In Piers’s experience, that statement is relatively true. “If that’s what you tell yourself,” is the last sentence exchanged before the lantern beside Raihan’s bed is extinguished and the ship falls unsettlingly silent.

-

About four days in, Raihan has a dream. A strange one. 

It’s almost difficult to discern from reality at first. The beginning is simply his daily duties, conversing with Sebastian over what port to land in next time they go ashore, making sure the ship is on track, making sure the crew is in line. And, now included in that for the past few days, conversing with Piers, who is slightly less stoic than usual. More animated. The first sure sign that this is actually a dream. The next is when he clambers into that damnable tub with Piers, caging him in with his body even though he offers no resistance when Raihan lowers his head for a bruising kiss. Water sloshes over the sides when Piers pulls Raihan down on top of him, earning a pleased moan in response. Raihan isn't exactly sure where this could go next when his dream self starts rutting his hips against Piers, biting his shoulder hard enough to bleed while Piers coos sweet words he can't quite make out into his ear and rubs his back. 

Slowly, Raihan starts to fade back into consciousness, lured there by the sweet friction of his hips rolling against his mattress. 

_ What the hell was that about? _

He tends not to remember his dreams, even immediately after waking, but this one is crystal clear. None of it makes any sense. His first rational thought is that it's some kind of siren magic. It has to be. Right? Piers is doing something weird to him, and that's it. But he knows, deep down, that isn't  _ remotely _ it. 

" _ Fuck _ ."

-

It's been a week, now. 

Raihan stands at his desk, poring over several maps, when Piers decide to cut his losses and say,  _ fuck it, might as well see what happens _ . He starts singing, focusing solely on Raihan even though the room is well insulated enough to keep the crew from hearing. When he thinks Raihan is either not hearing or somehow ignoring him, he gets a little louder. That gets Raihan's attention. His head snaps up and he stands from his hunched position, nearly toppling over from how suddenly he moved. Piers puts everything he has into his song, pulling at every desire Raihan's heart has ever yearned for until he's kneeling in front of him He can feel that it's barely enough to have Raihan under his spell, but it's good enough for what he needs. "Let me go?" Piers murmurs, leaning over the side of his tub and tipping Raihan's chin up so he looks at him. 

Entranced, Raihan shakes his head slowly. Piers doesn't even feel him fighting back. Odd. "Can't," he says dazedly. "I won't see you again." 

Piers bites the inside of his cheek. Dammit. That might be true, but he wants  _ out _ . "You don't know that. I could visit." 

Then, Raihan does something completely out of the blue. He pulls his face from Piers's hand, leaning forward to press his lips to Piers's throat. "Will you?" 

Red covers Piers from his face to his chest and he reels backwards. He loses his concentration and can't maintain his pull, weak as it was, over Raihan any longer, and Raihan scrambles a few feet away, panting and clutching his chest. "I… uh…" 

Raihan recovers quickly to make his riposte, desperate to maintain his sudden upper hand. It's his turn to tilt Piers's chin up and look into his eyes. "You don't know how badly I want you to stay." 

The blush on Piers's face only deepens, and he presses his lips into a thin line. He knows  _ everything _ Raihan wants. He should  _ know _ that. "There are people I need to take care of, Raihan." 

"Please?" Raihan murmurs, cupping Piers's face and leaning in for a kiss. 

Piers gives in for a moment before shoving Raihan away, hair beginning to raise as a warning to stay back. "You… ugh!" Piers splashes weakly at Raihan in frustration as his hair falls back down. "Stop tryin' to win me over!"  _ It's starting to  _ **_work_ ** _ , _ he thinks to himself ruefully. Why should he  _ want _ to stay above water? He's been up here before, and he decided on his own that humans weren't for him. "You don't know how it feels to be cramped like this. It's bloody  _ infuriating _ . I just want to make sure my damn sister is alright." Piers sinks down so his mouth is beneath the water, so the last few words of his sentence are lost on Raihan. If he's being honest, he's got separation anxiety. This is the longest he's ever been apart from Marnie. And the longest he's been away from Spikemuth in a good while. He's alarmed to find that, if Marnie weren't a concerning factor (she can almost fend for herself, and she has the town to help, but is he going to leave her? Hell no), he'd mind staying above sea a little less. Why the hell is he  _ enjoying _ being held  _ captive _ ? Is it because it's by some pretty boy he doesn't even know? Piers doesn't know what the hell Raihan could be planning to do with him now that he's breached some of his defenses. For all he knows, he could still end up thrown at the feet of the highest bidder. He may not be exceptionally pretty or strong, but he's got a good enough voice. He knows what kind of price he could fetch. Thinking about what someone could force him to do turns his stomach inside out. All the more reason to get the hell out of here as soon as he can. 

It takes Raihan a second to make out the rest of Piers's words. He cocks his head to the side, leaning closer. "You have family?" He never really considered that, since all he'd ever heard about sirens is that they were only seen alone. Maybe because those were the ones that got caught. 

Piers raises his head just enough to spit brackish water in Raihan's eyes. He's said too much. "Piss off and let me go."  _ Yes _ , he could leave himself, technically speaking, but he's under heavy supervision by Raihan, and there's the issue of his crew outside. They'd know if he set foot or fin outside this room. He'd flop out of his tub and claw his way across the deck if he wasn't positive he'd be carried right back. "I can sing again and  _ make _ you let me go." But he doesn't want to. Even if it's what he was born to do, strongarming people into doing his bidding doesn't sit well with him. It isn't so bad if he's just…  _ influencing _ them to do something they simply didn't have the courage to. That's what he tells himself, at least. 

"No need for that," Raihan yelps, hurriedly shaking his head as he clears the water from his eyes. "Bloody hell, that hurt." He has to wonder if Piers knew it would. "Fine, you overgrown guppy, I'll let you go. On one condition." 

"God, here we go…" Piers mutters to himself. 

"Come back. At least once." One look at his face tells Piers that this is, legitimately, all Raihan wants. His expression is set. Determined. 

There's a beat before Piers says, "That's  _ it _ ?"

"What were you expecting?"

Helping force someone into something. Possibly something horrible, given Raihan's chosen profession. "I dunno, and I refuse to give you ideas. Just carry me out." This should be easy. Piers gets to leave, and there's no way he has to uphold his end of the deal. 

"Not so fast." Raihan's brows knit and he squints at Piers reproachfully. " _ You _ think you're gonna get away with not coming back. Let me raise the stakes." Piers groans and sinks underwater. "I know a witch. I know her well enough that I can ask her to hex you."

Piers surfaces abruptly, sending water all over Raihan, the floor, and a tapestry hanging on the wall beside him. "What is  _ with _ you people and witches? Why do you need to be in cahoots with witches  _ all the time _ ?" he shouts, glaring at Raihan. 

Leaning on one hand, Raihan levels Piers with a smug look. He doesn’t really think to question why Piers knows that, too satisfied with himself to care about the siren’s vaguely suspicious knowledge of the surface. "It's a mutually beneficial relationship." Witches get protection, and pirates get various other boons; safety at sea, luck, hexes, virtually anything they'd need metaphysically. A ship ideally has her own witch, the one sure blessing for safe passage and good fortune, but not all can afford them. Those who can't, or can't strike up a satisfactory agreement, deal with those in hiding on land. "I've got five weeks of rations- more, if you're lucky and we ransack someone else- and then we'll have to go ashore. You have that long to find me again. If not, I'll be in Hulbury working out an arrangement with Nessa. Do we have a deal?" 

Wily bastard. Damn pirates and their penchant for striking up contracts. Piers turns to inspect the tapestry behind him, suddenly much more interested in it than the conversation at hand. 

"Do. We. Have. A deal?" Raihan repeats, slower this time. 

" _ Yes _ , dammit." Piers doesn't know what exactly he's gotten himself into, but it's sure to be a mess. He's not completely sure of what a curse entails, but he can't afford the risk. Whatever misfortune befalls him could rub off on Spikemuth, or, god forbid, Marnie. And god knows he's already seen his share. "Don't hold your breath, but I'll fuckin' come back. Count on it."

"I already do." 

Expectant silence. “Well? We made a deal. Make good on your part,” Piers says, impatiently tapping the side of the tub with his fingers. He didn’t really think through how exactly getting out of here would go, considering he almost asks what the hell Raihan’s doing when he wordlessly stands and, wrinkling his nose in disgust, sticks his arms underwater to pick Piers up. 

“You’re much lighter than you look,” Raihan notes, grateful Piers is facing away from him and can’t see his blush as he carries him out to the bow of the ship, where the siren wriggles out of his arms and dives into the water without so much as a single parting word. 

The first lungful of water is always the worst. The saltiness makes it burn significantly more, enough to bring tears to one’s eyes. Despite the fact that he's lived in the sea nearly his whole life, returning to it always makes Piers feel like he's drowning; an especially odd feeling for a siren to be sure. Part of why few surface long enough to experience it. It takes a moment for Piers to get his bearings before he darts off like a minnow fleeing from a stork, not without a glance backward that he would swear was just to help him discern what direction in which to swim to get back home, since he knows the ship is headed east.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im absolutely astounded anyone likes this to be honest, so thanks for all y'all's feedback! it means the world to me ;v;  
> this feels like a mess but also ive been looking at it so long i forgot how to read? so here it is  
> SOMEHOW i have 15.6k already and absolutely nothing is chronological so it'll probably be better once we get to. The Main Drama.  
> sidenote their heights definitely don't line up with their ingame models aside from raihan because piers ingame absolutely isn't as tall as his character sheet which is a CRIMINAL CRIME and I like shortish leon so like. thought i'd point it out cause its mentioned eventually but not of dire importance  
> forgive me if this is a disaster its been like a week and its 3am and i am. impatient  
> did i put a blazblue quote in here? scientists are yet to conclude.

"Piers!"

Marnie chirps and chatters excitedly at the sight of her brother, bolting over and tackling him in a crushing hug, rubbing her cheek against his in greeting. "Where've you been? We were all worried sick when you didn't come back in a few days." Never mind the fact that she was on the edge of the city, tempted to sneak off and look for him herself. 

"I would never leave you," Piers says softly, arms tight around his baby sister. "You know that, right?"

"'Course I do." Marnie's smiling the slightest bit when she pulls away, but it only takes a second for that smile to falter when she notices the mostly-healed hole in Piers’s tail that’s just shy of the size of her hand. “What is _that_?”

Piers bites back an exasperated sigh. He had this coming. But something about her question sparks a memory of what of the situation Piers can remember before Raihan found him. 

_The panicked wail of something clearly neither human nor animal reached Piers from tens of yards in front of him, and it sounded too close to a siren for him not to investigate. The most he could make out was the silhouette of a ship, but as he drew nearer he could see what was, in fact, a young siren, probably even younger than Marnie, caught in some netting hanging from the side of the ship. He swam faster, not thrilled with the fact that he had to be a few feet shy of the surface, but he couldn’t leave one of his kind to such a horrible fate. Humans would have no use for them at this age, and wouldn’t be willing to let them grow up, nor would they be merciful enough to let them go. His teeth shredded through the rope easily, and, once free, the young siren dashed off without so much as a thank you, but Piers didn’t blame them in the slightest. He made the mistake of getting caught up wondering why the hell someone so young was away from home- they certainly weren’t from Spikemuth, which was closer than any other city or settlement._

_A sharp pain seized Piers’s lower half, and he took a breath so abrupt it hurt his lungs. A glance down revealed a harpoon sprouting from his tail, buried a good ways in. His body didn’t respond when he tried to move at first, until the adrenaline set in and he desperately pulled at the metal barb sunken into his flesh, the pain not deterring him in the slightest because he was painfully aware something far worse awaited him if he didn’t get it out and get away. It didn’t budge in the slightest, and he screamed when a sharp tug towed his body up toward the surface. There was blood-_ **_so much blood_ ** _\- darkening the water and staining his hands as he was hauled up, gasping uselessly once he broke the surface. There was a moment of stunned silence before the crowd above him broke into uproarious cheer, and only then did Piers realize that that was very obviously a trap, and how could he have_ **_fucking fallen for it_ ** _, but he couldn’t have left someone behind so callously. The adverse mix of pain and panic flooding his system left him hyperventilating and, soon enough, unconscious, but he could feel the pirates throw a net over him and begin bringing him aboard before succumbing to blackness._

The _one_ thing he advised Marnie never to do, even though she isn’t allowed to leave the city to begin with, he got caught doing. The hypocrisy is astounding. What would she even say? _Here goes nothing,_ he figures, taking a deep breath. “Well, I. Was up near the surface. And got run through by some pirates.” He chances a quick glance at Marnie, and isn’t surprised that she looks furious and on the verge of tears.

“You better have had a bloody good reason,” she says evenly, in spite of the way her face is twisted up like she's going to cry. Piers wants nothing more than to comfort her, but he knows better. She’d shove him away and swim off somewhere in frustration until she calmed down enough to talk to him again. And, after what happened a week ago, he doesn’t want Marnie leaving his sight.

“They _trapped_ someone, Marn. Someone your age. I couldn’t just leave them,” he says, gesturing emphatically. 

“Yeah, but you could’ve left _me_!” Marnie’s bawling now, face buried in her hands. “Did you even think about that?”

A sigh slips from Piers as he drags a hand down the side of his face. “Of course I did. I can’t say I wouldn’t have done it had I known I was being trapped but… hey, I’m fine now, right?”

“Yeah, how the hell’d you manage to swing _that_ ,” Marnie mutters bitterly, scrubbing at her face.

Piers nearly laughs at himself for wanting to call Marnie out on her language. This isn’t really the time. _She gets a pass for now_ . “Another human took their ship and found me. Fairly nice bloke, all things considered.” Marnie looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t give me that look. He let me heal and let me go. That’s more than _fairly_ nice.”

“Who are you and _what_ have you done with my brother?” Marnie bursts into laughter through her sniffling, and it sets Piers at ease. She isn’t as angry as she seemed. Just worried. Personally, Piers would be hunting those pirates down with a vengeance if the same had happened to her.

Piers laughs a little as well, swimming through the outskirts of the city and nodding in acknowledgement when people call out to him in greeting as he passes. "I'm serious. I may've found the _one_ good one out there, but humans can, apparently, be civil, at the very least." 

"Can't I at least find out for myself?" Marnie tries to sound impassive, but there's the slightest pleading tone in her voice. 

"Nope." 

"You've been on land."

"I have. But I was older than you. You're too little to go by yourself, Marn. Give it a few years."

"Then go with me."

"No can do. Don't like it up there. You know that."

Marnie scoffs. "You didn't make it sound that way just now." 

Piers rolls his eyes as he stops in front of their home. What it used to be, nobody is quite sure, considering the building was already abandoned and boarded up before it was submerged. Some of the waterlogged wood was loose enough to be pried off, enough to make an entry through a long since broken window, and that's where Piers's family has resided ever since. "That wasn't my intent," he says as he slips through the window and into the cramped but cozy confines of their home. "Uh… Speaking of. I gotta go visit him at some point." 

Marnie follows, shouting, "What're you goin' on about _now_? You tell us all to stay away from humans, then disappear for a week and suddenly your mind's changed?"

Sighing, Piers sinks to the floor, staring up at the ceiling and dragging his nails along his scalp. "'S not that simple. There's a lot at stake. Hell, I don't know if I _want_ to go, but it's better than getting cursed."

"And that's a _good_ human to you."

"Obviously I don't consider _that_ good. You know what I meant." Piers sits up to look at Marnie where she sits a few feet away. "I have a few weeks to find him. I'll be back before you know it. Promise."

-

It's a month before Piers spots _Wyrm_ , (he'd recognize that gaudy dragon figurehead _anywhere_ , and he's only seen it once) and it's either his luck or misfortune that the storm above has cleared and the crew is starting to reel in the drogue that was keeping the ship from succumbing to the tumultuous waves. He sighs, bubbles fluttering past his lips, and swims toward it, settling inside. This is virtually his only ticket onboard, unless he feels like yelling himself hoarse trying to get someone's attention so they can lower a lifeboat or clawing his way sixty something feet up the side of the hull. Both undesirable situations. Maybe whoever's operating the winch won't notice a hundred extra pounds. 

In a few minutes, he's hoisted clear of the water. He takes a shuddering breath before coughing up water, hands gripping the edge of the canvas as he tries to get acclimated to breathing pure air. The shiphand at the winch doesn't notice Piers until he reaches down to grab the drogue and pull it the rest of the way onto the ship, nearly jumping out of his skin when he sees a siren curled up inside. Piers nods to him as if this is a totally normal occurrence, raising a hand in acknowledgement. "I've got business with your boss. Be a peach, and get him for me." _Business_ isn't really the word, considering he doesn't know what the hell is compelling him to come back aside from making good on a promise he has no idea why he made. Maybe a curse wouldn't have been so bad. Maybe it would've worn off. Then again, it would depend on how angry Raihan is, he supposes. Possibly angry enough to drop the coin to curse him for a lifetime. Pirates can get vindictive about not upholding contracts, so Piers has heard. 

The man nods wordlessly, visibly confused as he hurries off to fetch Raihan. Not a minute later, the man in question appears, and though he isn't out of breath Piers knows he ran to the stern to greet him. 

"Here I was, thinking you'd be a no-show." Raihan's wearing that same smile Piers has come to find the slightest bit endearing. 

"Told you I'd come back. Even though it was under threat of screwing up my life," Piers says with an eye roll and a derisive scoff. 

"Hey, a little hex never hurt anybody." Raihan has to take a second to appreciate the fact that Piers is arresting as always, despite the fact that his hair hasn't dried yet and it makes him look like a drowned cat. ...Man, Piers is away for a month and _this_ is how he's acting? _Pull yourself together_ , he chides internally. _He's just here for a chat._ "Let's get you out of there." Raihan leans down to grab Piers, catching him off guard when he simply hoists him up with his hands around Piers's waist. His fingertips are practically a hair's breadth from touching, and both of them freeze when they realize this. Which is awkward, since Raihan has to hold Piers a considerable distance up so that his tail doesn't drag on the deck, eyes nearly level with his hips. Piers clears his throat, and Raihan's gaze darts away from his waist, the faintest blush rising to his cheeks. 

"I'd say _you can put me down now_ , but there's nothing to put me down _on_ , so…" 

"Right." Piers is gracelessly slung over Raihan's shoulder, a soft grunt forced from him when his stomach makes contact with Raihan's shoulder. 

"Jeez. Give a guy some warning," Piers mutters, powerless to do anything but succumb to his fate and hang limply against Raihan's back. His hair feels so heavy he's almost worried it'll pull him down face first into the deck. 

"Oi! Get him some water, would ya?" Raihan calls to the two closest shiphands, who nod, one running belowdecks to fetch something while the other rigs up spare rope to lower a bucket into the sea. He isn't exactly aware that Piers will get lightheaded and eventually pass out if he's fully out of the water too long, but figures he was being kept in it for a reason. 

His observation skills don't go unnoticed. "You're gonna hold me hostage for a while, huh?" 

"Hey, you decided to come back."

"Says the one threatening to _curse me_." 

"Not _directly_ …" 

"Still counts." Raihan gingerly places Piers on the side of his bed once they're in his cabin and sits beside him. His eyes drift to the place on Piers's tail that used to be a bloody crater. The injury is now naught but a palm sized, roughly circular patch of scar tissue where his scales haven’t grown back yet. Raihan starts to reach out to trace his fingers over it, but his hand is smacked away. " _What_ are you doing." 

Raihan sort of forgot they aren't close enough to warrant that. "Sirens, uh… heal pretty quickly, huh? It's been, how long, a month?"

"Is this all you wanted me here for?" Piers asks, with a little more of an edge to his voice than Raihan expected. 

Honestly? Raihan didn't plan to get this far. Hell, he doesn't know if he even would've gone through with his threat. They aren't even on the way to Hulbury now, anyway. He's spared a little more time for an answer when two of his men come in carrying the same tub Piers was in last time, placing it where Raihan indicates and leaving to return to rigging the sails. "Well, no…" Yes, he definitely needed the extra time to come up with such a _brilliant_ response. 

Piers, for the third time straight, doesn't think about the fact that Raihan's going to have to pick him up and goes stiff in his arms before he's placed in the water. He's been touched more in the past month and a half by a stranger than his own sister. It alarms him to find that he _doesn't_ hate it. "You didn't… have to do that," he blurts, then internally slaps himself for how little sense it made. He couldn't very well have dragged himself across the floor instead. That would have been humiliating. 

"How else did you intend to make your way over here, then?" Raihan says nonchalantly as he shirks his coat and rolls his sleeves up. Piers wishes his eyes didn't catch on Raihan's forearms like they do. And what little of his chest is left exposed by his shirt. Shamelessly appreciating the lean muscle found there. "What?"

Hell. Piers face tinges pink from being caught staring and he tugs at his choker reflexively, turning to face the wall opposite him. He's seen Raihan in a relative state of undress before, albeit he didn't pay much attention, since he didn't particularly care. Why is now any different? "What are you doing?" 

"Wet sleeves, mate." 

Piers snorts. "So, we're on _mate_ basis now?" Again, he doesn't really hate it. And he hates that. 

"Not if you don't wanna be." 

"I don't particularly give a damn." 

"Then we are." Raihan drags his desk chair over to Piers, crossing his legs when he takes a seat, posture too overly casual and betraying the fact that he's trying to psych himself up for something. This is so much easier to do with ladies; _why can't it be that easy with Piers_. "So, um. There's something we need to talk about. That's why I wanted you back." 

Piers simply stares at Raihan for a second. He catches that desire he missed the first time around- the desire to have him around, for _his own_ reasons,- and it's grown stronger with time. "Is this a confession?" It's the only conclusion he can make. Why the hell else would Raihan want him here if he isn't going to _use_ him?

Raihan only blinks, completely thrown off. Well. That makes this a little easier. "...If you wanna put it so bluntly, yeah." 

"Shouldn't you be talkin' to your family about it, _mate_?" Piers makes an attempt to joke, but he knows he’s deflecting. He doesn’t know what else to do. He should’ve been expecting this, given how Raihan was acting last time they saw each other, but he’s still been blindsided. 

Raihan scoffs. “As if they want anything to do with me.” At least Raihan doesn't seem to notice. "But back to the matter at hand." He takes Piers's hand, brushing his lips against his knuckles. "I'd like you to be mine."

Piers recoils as if he's been burned, holding his hand to his chest as his face gradually turns red and his heart kicks into overdrive. Raihan gives him a curious look. "We don't really. Kiss. Often," Piers says, voice gradually getting quieter with each word. Kisses are typically reserved for the most intimate and committed of relationships, anything outside that being a pretty significant outlier. 

"Oh." Raihan's eyes widen when he realizes he _full-on kissed_ Piers last time he was here. " _Oh_." He averts his eyes, sitting up straight and rubbing the back of his neck. "My god. I'm sorry." 

"Yeah." It's not something Piers would mind getting used to, but Raihan doesn't need to know that. Not now, at least. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to slow his heart's hammering. "S'fine. I'm gonna need some time. To process this." 

"Of course." 

There's a long stretch of silence during which Piers shifts and fidgets uncomfortably under Raihan's gaze. The ends of his hair curl and uncurl with palpable anxiety as he says, "I want to leave."

"Whatever you need." Standing to scoop Piers up, Raihan is heedless of how he's in the process of soaking his shirt completely through. Piers struggles to chase off the thought of seeing Raihan with his clothes clinging so close to his skin, face reddening slightly as he tries instead to count how many boards Raihan carries him over on the way to the stern of the ship. "I hope I can see you again," Raihan says softly as he holds Piers out over the railing. 

Piers hesitates for a second that feels like a small eternity, staring down at the sea when he finally says, "...We'll just have to see about that." He jumps from Raihan's arms without waiting for him to respond. The cold water slows his racing thoughts significantly and he sighs in relief, closing his eyes as he simply lets himself sink. 

-

Ten or so feet shouldn't be that harrowing of a climb, since there are proper handholds. The real problem is not having legs. His upper body isn't the _strongest_ , but Piers doesn't have much of a choice, letting out a frustrated sigh as he digs his fingers into the crevice between the first two boards above him and begins to hoist himself upward. The things he does for Raihan. 

Climbing is more difficult a task than Piers anticipated, even when he took his lack of legs into account. He underestimated how much dead weight his tail would be once he was fully clear of the water, and how much his fingers would protest at supporting his body weight on such an unforgiving surface. It's probably the most grueling ten minutes of his life outside of being kidnapped. Once he's at the top, he supports himself with his forearms on the railing, giving his hands a rest and flexing his fingers to work out the newfound stiffness in his joints. "Oi, Raihan," he calls after a few seconds when his arms start to shake from exertion. He snickers when Raihan jumps, leaving whatever conversation he was having with the helmsman unfinished as he looks over his shoulder, his expression one of pure confusion. He's so caught off guard that he can't hide the way his eyes brighten when he realizes it's Piers. "Little help?" 

"Oh, hey." Raihan pats the helmsman's shoulder with an assurance that they'll talk again later, making his way over to Piers, who should really stop being surprised by how effortlessly Raihan lifts him. He feels like a rag doll. "What're you doing here?" Raihan seems to realize how accusatory that sounded as he stands on his toes to raise Piers's tail clear of the railing, though half his fin still drags across it. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, of course." 

Face dusting with red, Piers mumbles, "I gave your proposition some thought," just loud enough to hear. His heart thumps erratically when Raihan smiles, and it's hard to keep from blushing darker, but he manages. 

"Oh? Do tell." 

Batting at Raihan's shins with his caudal fin, Piers's nose scrunches in mild disgust. "I'm not havin' this conversation out here." 

It takes about ten minutes to get Piers settled, and in that time Piers gets so dizzy he almost can't sit up and Raihan has to support him. He's a little too happy about having Raihan's arm around his waist and being held against his side, lamenting that loss when his tub is carried in even though he can finally breathe properly. 

"So." Raihan splays himself across his bed, kicking his legs behind him as he rests his head on his hands. "Why have you requested an audience with the Great Raihan?" The moniker earns Raihan an indignant scoff (in an attempt to cover a laugh) and Piers flicking water at him with his tail. 

Piers pulls his hair over his shoulder so he can run his fingers through it. "I accept."

It's hard for Raihan to limit the extent of his reaction to his smile widening slightly, not wanting to give away how his heart leaps in his chest. "Well. I'm glad." 

" _Just_ glad?"

"Fine, _elated_." He stops to think for a moment, standing to pace the length of the room. "Say, since you're here, would you mind staying a while longer? There's someone I'd like you to meet, and we'll be in port soon."

Piers gives Raihan a wary look. He wants to trust that Raihan's smart enough not to get him killed, but he can't be sure. "Depends on how much they hate sirens." 

"Oh no, you'll see when you meet her. I'm positive you'll get along… _swimmingly_." Even Raihan cringes as soon as he says it out loud. 

Groaning, Piers throws his head back against the edge of his tub. "God, shut _up_. Don't make me regret this." 

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm really not." Raihan stops walking and presses the heels of his palms against his eyelids, tipping his head back in thought. "It'll take some doing to get her to set foot outside the Rising Tide, but… I guess I'll--"

"No one ever said I couldn't go on land."

Raihan pauses, removing his hands from his face to stare at Piers, dumbfounded. "...What. Are you mad? What do you think will happen if you do? Genuinely curious."

"Nothing, provided I have legs." 

"And how, exactly, do you plan on getting them?" Piers just wiggles his fin idly, and he can see in Raihan's expression when the realization sets in. "You just get weirder and weirder, don't you? Got any other secrets?"

Piers's expression is rife with self satisfaction. "Oh, tons." 

“Why didn’t you do that before, since you wanted to leave so badly?”

Piers scoffs. “I'd have a massive hole in my leg that opened back up, obviously. Bleeds out quicker. And I couldn’t bloody well show you and rat out my brothers and sisters on land, eh? I’m neck deep in this mess anyhow, so it matters less. Just know that if you tell anyone, I’ll mangle you.” 

Raihan simply laughs, even though he doesn't doubt Piers's ability to make good on that promise. He may not know much about sirens, but he knows enough to understand that they aren't to be taken lightly. "Alright. You can hold me to that." 

There's a knock at the door, and Sebastian calls, "Captain, we'll be making land soon."

Raihan throws up a hand in a vague gesture of ' _well, that's that_.' "Do what you must."

"You might want to leave the room."

Raihan raises an eyebrow. 

Exhaling in exasperation, Piers pinches the bridge of his nose. Why can't he take a hint? " _I_ want you to leave the room." 

An amused huff leaves Raihan as he makes for the door. "Fine, fine. Keep your secrets." 

Piers waits a beat after the door closes before willing himself to transform. 

No blood stains the water when Piers's tail starts to split, but the salt still stings the open flesh, and Piers does everything he can not to hiss from the pain. Bones creak as they rend in two, reforming instead into femurs and tibias and tarsals, stretching his skin in ways it isn't meant to be stretched as they do so. Muscles separate and contract into the more specialized forms required for standing upright; it's like a cramp affecting his entire lower half, and he has to grip the side of the tub to keep from kicking and wailing. He takes one final breath underwater before his gills close, and it feels like he's suffocating for a second until his body adjusts to not having what is essentially a second organ system on his lower half. Inky scales slowly recede into pale flesh, the sensation not unlike thousands of tiny knives sliding under his skin. He tries not to thrash too much, make too much noise and alert Raihan to the fact that transforming is, in fact, _very difficult and painful_. The last thing he wants is for Raihan to feel sorry for him. Or feel guilty for asking him to do this. The pain makes his teeth buzz as if he just ate pure, concentrated sugar, and his new legs wobble unsteadily and ache in protest when he forces himself to his feet. At most, this is about the fourth time he's done this, but he can't quite remember; it's been years. Not enough times to get fully acclimated, but enough to cope. He nearly trips over the side of the tub and spills it when he tries to take a step. Legs are heavier than he remembers. It takes about three minutes to get across the room to the door, and a minute and a half of that is spent trying to lift his foot high enough to actually clear the damn glorified bucket he was confined to. "You can come in now." He's almost proud of himself. All in all, that took around five minutes, tops. The first time took half an hour, but, granted, hurt considerably less. 

Raihan didn't really register the fact that Piers wouldn't be wearing clothes. An embarrassed flush darkens his cheeks. "Jesus, Piers, put something on-" On their way to the floor, Raihan's eyes catch the fact that Piers is completely smooth _down there_. "Uh… nope. Y'know what? I'm not asking."

"You're all a buncha prudes." Of course Piers would say that, since he apparently has nothing he needs clothes to hide. Clothes, in the typical human sense at least, only tend to fall into the hands of wealthier sirens than those who live in Spikemuth. They're scavenged from wrecked ships pirates haven't yet picked clean, and therefore are worth more than they are on land, especially considering they're seen as a luxury and not a necessity. Raihan never stopped to consider the fact that Piers is functionally naked all the time. His brain would probably have stopped working if he had. "And you didn't _give me_ anything, anyway." 

Raihan mutters something to himself about shamelessness as he pulls a trunk out from under his bed. He rifles through it, shoving aside his own clothes with a frown. "I don't know if I have anything that'll _fit_ is the problem." Something bright catches his eye, and he pulls it out, wondering if it's something particularly gaudy he forgot about and buried for good reason. It's… a dress. Canary yellow with white lace trim. It takes Raihan a good minute to realize it belongs (belonged?) to his last consort, and he can hardly remember what port he picked her up in, much less her name. No sense in trying to return it now, it seems. Blush paints Raihan's cheeks as he thrusts the dress in Piers's direction, refusing to look at him, grip tight on the thick cotton. "Looks like this is all that'll work, mate. My apologies." Hopefully it doesn't belong to anyone in Hammerlocke, should Piers come ashore with him sometime. Talk about an awkward reunion. 

Piers simply blinks. "Like I give a damn? It's fabric. This is more for the sake of your dignity than mine." Piers takes the dress and nonchalantly slips into it, fingers fumbling slightly with the buttons on the front of the bodice. He's not used to clothes tailored for women. "Should I bother wondering why you have this?" 

"I'm sure you have imagination enough to know."

"Didn't pin you as the type for crossdressing."

"Wha- _no_ ! You _know_ that's not it." 

Piers smirks smugly as he ties the bow around his neck. "Do I?" Raihan takes a step forward, squinting down at him, and Piers laughs at the halfhearted attempt at intimidation. "Ye _gods_ , man. You're a colossus." 

Raihan can't help but smile as he leans down to kiss the top of Piers's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> piers: just got out of the ocean lookin like a rat  
> raihan: okay, hot,  
> did pirate ships use drogues resembling modern ones even a little bit? fuck if I know! let's just say they did for the sake of my sanity and the Drama of the scene okay i have done an embarrassing amount of research on various anchoring mechanisms  
> also i put piers in a (not-at-all-period-accurate) dress cause a) pants would probably be uncomfortable while acclimating to legs b) a dress is less to take off if he needed to get in the water c) piers said the fuck’s a gender role and d) im the author and i willed this into existence and i had a Vision of piers in a fancy yellow dress so. maybe he’ll wear pants one day but not today. plus have you SEEN 16th and 17th century fashion oh my god its. So.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title change cause while This Sea is a good song, florence welch owns my ass and i cant believe i didnt think of this sooner and it fits better  
> boy this feels late huh. i got struck by the demoralization express and also by not really being able to write on top of my sleep schedule fixing itself spontaneously so no more 5 am writing then fucking up again so yes writing at 5 am ON TOP OF we lost our cat 2+ months ago and we got kittens recently. so sorry orz  
> you know you're in too deep when you're considering how circulatory systems work for mythical creatures  
> and also ships. nobody needs to know how many hours i spent researching ships. but you will know. it was too many. i have the dimensions written out and everything as if i know how big 100 feet is. and it will NEVER be relevant  
> weak ending and all but WHAT CAN YOU DO. it is what it is i just wanna get to when it fuckin goes OFF in like 3 chapters

When Raihan sees the ship docked next to his, he nearly trips over himself running down the gangplank. "Oi, Leon!" 

Leon turns to face the noise, bringing his conversation with a dock worker to an abrupt halt. He then abandons it altogether in favor of running over to meet Raihan. "Well, now! Fancy meeting you here. How've you been, mate?" 

Raihan has to suppress the urge to give Leon a hug. It's been months since they've seen each other, but he can't be so obvious about how much he missed him. "Eh, same as always. I'm assuming you've been busy as ever." 

Leon scoffs. " _ Naturally _ ." He nods in the direction of Raihan's ship, where Piers is pretending not to have trouble getting off. Thankfully, his skirt covers the way his legs shake. What it doesn’t cover, because of how he has it hiked up, is his bare ankles and lower shins, which give Leon a small heart attack. "What's with them?" He means it both as  _ who is this new person coming off your ship? _ and as  _ why are they so  _ **_indecent_ ** _? _

"New friend I picked up in…" Raihan pauses for a moment, genuinely forgetting where last they dropped anchor as well as trying not to sound like he's lying. He almost says Hammerlocke before catching himself; he didn't realize how much he wants to go home, family be damned, but that would just bring on more questions. "Circhester? Hell if I know. You'll get a kick out of 'im."

"Who's this?" Piers asks once he's within earshot, after much stumbling and swearing in a language he'd be gutted for speaking. 

"Well, I figured you'd know, since you spoke about him so casually earlier." Raihan gives Piers a pointed look while Leon's head is turned, a warning not to risk shattering his cover any further. "This is Leon. Now you can put a face to a name."

Piers pauses a moment to study Leon's face when he makes it to Raihan's side. He matches the few, vague descriptions sirens who encountered him had circulated. Which is to say, little more than "awfully young for a privateer" and "striking gold eyes" and, most often, "you'll know him if you see him". Though, the ambiguity could be attributed to the fact that Spikemuthians rarely strayed far from the city, much less to the surface, and likely heard these things through a friend of a friend. "Name's Piers. Nice to meet the infamous  _ Leon _ in person," Piers says with a way-too-formal curtsey. Clearly screwing with both of them, given the smirk on his face. 

Leon has to cover a laugh by clearing his throat, albeit poorly. He flashes the briefest grin, and it's somehow more brilliant than the sun glaring off the sea. Almost too bright for Piers to look at directly. "You may be right, Raihan." 

Piers sort of zones out of the conversation staring at Leon's ship. If he ever passed by him, he sure didn't realize it. Leon doesn't seem to make the wisest decisions- at first glance. Of course he'd have a  _ galleon _ . No sensible man would, what with its size and therefore unwieldy nature, but  _ Panacea _ is armed to the teeth, and everyone in Galar and beyond knows who Leon is. It's almost as if he's daring anyone to try something. Plus, that's all the more room for stolen cargo, and men to steal it with. Since Leon's crew is, as to be expected, above board, they're much more professional looking than those on any common ship that comes into port. Dressed in black breeches and coats that match Leon's in every way save for the fact that they're blue, Piers imagines they can't be all too comfortable in the summer sun, regardless of how diligently they work. The longer Piers looks at it, the more he realizes how completely Leon is in his depth. To top it all off, her sails are dyed a deep red. They're the most defining feature, and for good reason. A calling card of sorts. Nobody else has sails like that, even Piers knows, so it's clear from a distance who exactly is approaching. A  _ way _ over the top replacement for a flag, but a glaring incentive to leave Leon be nonetheless. No quarter is to be given or is expected to be received if it should come to blows. 

It's no wonder why everyone gives him a wide berth if they can help it. 

"Nice ship. But, uh…  _ Panacea _ ?" Piers comments once there's a lull in the conversation. 

"Rose named her," Leon says with the barest edge of vexation. "It's not that good, I know." He tilts his head, squinting at Piers for a moment. It's barely perceptible, but… "You've got a strange accent. Not from around these parts, eh?" 

Raihan casts Piers a worried glance that he doesn't catch, seeming to already have been prepared for this question. "Not really, no. From a tiny place a few miles outside Hammerlocke." It isn't exactly a lie.  _ Please don't bring up how I sound  _ **_nothing_ ** _ like Raihan _ , Piers internally chants, somehow keeping his stoic demeanor despite the fact that he would kick his own ass if he could for that comment. But the excuse slid in the past in Motostoke, where most people of his lower end of the social spectrum didn't know the first thing about Hammerlocke, much less the outskirts. 

Leon doesn't seem to connect the dots. "It's a wonder you two haven't met sooner, then! Raihan says he's got siblings all over the place 'round there to help with business."

"Lee, please, can we not," Raihan groans. 

"Don't mind him. He just loves being dramatic," Leon says, shaking his head, smiling when Raihan groans again. 

"I've noticed," Piers deadpans. 

"What, I can't embarrass you in front of your new friend? Come on. All you do is ride my coattails, anyway." It's comical, how Leon's almost a foot shorter than Raihan, is _looking_ _up at him_ , yet still has the gall to sass him.

Raihan falls for the taunt all too easily. He crosses his arms, leaning down slightly. "Bold statement, since all  _ you _ do is ride Rose's." 

Leon elbows Raihan in the side, but he's grinning as he turns to walk down the dock toward Hulbury proper. "If we're gonna tear each other apart, let's at least do it over ale."

They make their way to the nearest "building" to the dock; an overturned, dry docked, and modified sloop with a door carved in the side and a sign reading “Rising Tide Tavern & Inn”. Piers notes that Raihan mentioned that name earlier. This must be where whoever he's supposed to meet is. They enter, and are met with the sound of chatter from the handful of patrons scattered about the room. Piers can only imagine how lively a tavern so large must be at night. 

"What did I tell you about showing your face around here?" a woman calls from across the room where she stands behind the bar, handing a tankard to a patron. 

"That you'd be lucky if you ever saw it again," Raihan replies playfully. "Hey, Ness." 

"Get your arse over here." Nessa rushes over to hug both Raihan and Leon, who greet her with equal enthusiasm. "Who's this, and why are you letting him walk around with cold feet?" 

"Piers. Situation's complicated." Raihan claps Piers on the back so hard it knocks the wind out of him, and Piers can't tell how intentional it was. "Take him in the back. He can tell you all about it." Piers gives Raihan a curious look, and Raihan leans in to whisper, "It's alright to tell her  _ you know what _ . She's in as much danger as you are. Witch, and all that." 

Nessa nods, retrieving two tankards of ale for Raihan and Leon from the cellar before motioning for Piers to follow. She leads him down a hall to a cramped room draped in blue curtains, books lining two walls as high as she can reach. There's a small table in the center, covered with trinkets Piers can't fathom the use for, and an altar in the corner. "You need a blessing? Or a curse? A ward? Out with it, we don't have long," Nessa says as she locks the door behind her. 

_ Screw it, _ Piers thinks,  _ nothing else could possibly be relevant. If she outs me, she outs herself _ . "I don't see why, but I'm guessing Raihan wanted me to tell you I'm a siren."

For the briefest of seconds, Nessa is shocked, then visibly overcome with glee, though she tries to rein it in. "Really, now?" She claps excitedly when Piers nods. "Oh, this is  _ great _ . I have some books in Siren that need translating, and--"

"Hold on, hold on," Piers interjects. "You have  _ what _ ? How did you get ahold of those?" 

Nessa takes a moment to collect herself. "They were passed down to me, for the most part. I'm half siren, but you'd never guess. Can't carry a tune in a bucket. Obviously can't go undersea. Can hold my breath a little longer than most, though. I figure I didn't get enough of Mum's blood to be a full blown fish." Piers doesn't visibly react, but Nessa smiles sheepishly regardless, suddenly turning her attention to smoothing out the wrinkles of the tablecloth beside her. "Probably shouldn't have said that." 

"I mean, you aren't  _ wrong _ . Why couldn't she translate for you?"

"She's been out of the sea since she was old enough to walk. She only remembers bits and pieces here and there."

Piers mulls his statement over for a second before noting, "You must be a pretty competent witch, then. S'pose I see why Raihan wanted us to meet."

Nessa nods. "Naturally. The best in Hulbury, at the very least. And  _ you _ can help me get better. I can offer free board, if you'll take up translating for me. Plus, it'll be nice to know there's someone besides Mum on land."

Witches. Dealing with pirates for generations must have caused their appetite for negotiation to rub off. "I'll think about it." Something about Nessa makes Piers want to consider helping, when he'd normally give a flat out no. He chalks it up to her being of the same blood, making a conscious effort to remind himself not to blindly trust humans, even though people like Nessa make it so easy to forget. He bites back the urge to comment on the fact that there are almost certainly a handful of sirens in hiding in this town alone. Coastal towns are prime real estate. Easy to fit in, easy to escape if things don't shake out so well. "Not gonna stay long, but if I happen to come back, I'll be sure to visit. He was gonna ask you to curse me, y'know." 

"Raihan?" Nessa scoffs. "I can count the number of times that man has actually made good on that kind of promise on one hand."

"Nessaaa," Raihan calls from the front, "you've got clients." 

Sure enough, when they return to the front, there are a few patrons standing at the bar. Nessa departs with a shrug and a nod, and Piers joins Leon and Raihan at their table in the corner. 

Raihan's chatting with a stout woman who seems bent on ignoring Leon's existence. Leon seems to return the sentiment, staring down into his ale. They wrap up when she sees that Nessa has returned, shaking hands before she walks away and Raihan calls, "Safe travels, mate!" after her. 

"What's with the sour look?" 

Leon raises his head slightly when he's addressed. "Oh, uh, it's nothing. Some of her crew got snapped up by Rose and she takes it out on anyone working for him."

Piers has to physically restrain himself from making a comment about humans being petty. He hasn't had to mince words like this since Marnie was tiny. "Thought you two were rivals. Here you are, being all… chummy," he says as he takes a seat across from the two of them. 

Raihan snorts. "Yeah, but we aren't  _ barbaric _ . We have a treaty set up. So long as neither of us takes a swing at the other, we're on neutral ground. Doesn't mean we can't get along outside work, though." 

"'Get along' isn't how I'd put it," Leon says as deadpan as he's able, trying to hide his smile with his tankard as he takes a sip of ale. 

Raihan gives his shoulder a shake, nearly making it spill on him. "You  _ wound _ me, Lee. We've been mates for _ ever _ . How could you just throw away what we have?" Leon bursts into laughter at that, and it's contagious enough that it affects even Piers. This is the first time he can remember feeling truly welcome around humans, not to mention around one who knows what he is. 

"I know, I know," Leon says after his laughter dies down, patting Raihan's arm. "Don't worry. I would never."

Because of his conflicting reputations among humans and sirens, Piers never knew exactly what to make of Leon. He certainly didn't expect someone so unabashedly amiable, especially when he is, by and large, feared by those bound to land. Even so, it's hard to imagine him carousing with such a crew as his, the way Raihan had with his own men while Piers was healing. Land may well be the only place he gets to enjoy the company of others, and the pool of potential companions must be shallow. That's a fairly depressing thought, even to Piers. 

The next few hours go by in what seems like an instant, between Nessa stopping by to chat when she isn't helping patrons, listening to whatever tales of questionable veracity from the past few months Leon and Raihan are trying to one-up each other with, and watching the bard across the tavern go from idly plucking his lute to full on performing when there are enough people to warrant it. Raihan and Leon were too busy talking to drink much, so neither of them are quite sloshed when Raihan decides it's time to turn in, earning a curious look from Leon at how he brings Piers along. 

Few words are exchanged between them as Raihan leads Piers upstairs to the room Nessa indicated and begins shedding his clothes. Piers makes an almost inaudible, choked noise of distress and has to physically turn around to stop admiring the muscles of Raihan's back. Piers takes his time getting undressed himself, which  _ must _ be suspicious, considering he's only wearing one layer. He can't help it. He's nervous. Yes, he's  _ with _ Raihan now, but they've never been in such close quarters before. It's a little intimidating. He faces away from Raihan when he finally crawls into bed, and nearly has a heart attack when Raihan winds his arms around his waist and pulls him closer, burying his face in his hair. Okay. Raihan must be asleep. 

"I take it you and Ness at least tolerate each other?" Raihan is not asleep. 

"We get along alright. She's better than most of you sods," Piers tries to keep his voice as even as possible even though his heart is still thrumming wildly. He doesn't anticipate falling asleep, all of a sudden. 

Raihan nuzzles the back of his neck with a sleepy sigh. "That's good." Piers can't fully relax until Raihan's breaths are deep and steady. What the hell is he supposed to do about this?

-

Piers doesn't know at what point he fell asleep, but he wakes up with his face buried in Raihan's chest. Something in him wants to shove Raihan away and dart out of bed, but he's too pleasantly warm to consider moving. He snuggles further into Raihan's embrace without thinking, seeking Raihan's alluring warmth, content to go back to sleep. 

A soft, sleepy noise leaves Raihan as he stretches, sighing and propping his head on top of Piers's. "Mornin'."

"Mm." Piers is already half asleep. 

Raihan runs a hand through Piers's hair, smiling when Piers trills softly and nuzzles his throat. "You alright? You're really cold." 

"Siren thing." Fish aren't warm blooded, so, even when above water, inactivity cools sirens down. Being so close to someone warm is borderline intoxicating. Raihan starts to move and Piers frowns, clinging to him tighter. "What're you doing." 

"Gotta round up my crew and load supplies." Piers makes an indignant noise of protest and Raihan laughs softly. "What?"

"Warm." 

"Being human does that to you."

"Stay." 

A hand runs up Piers's side, eliciting another happy chirp. "Dunno if I can stay for long," Raihan murmurs, shifting back into his previous position despite how little he moved. "But I'll humor you." 

-

At some point in the afternoon, Raihan stole one too many kisses and Piers promptly towed him by the front of his shirt belowdecks while the crew was on break. 

Which brings them here, crammed behind crates and barrels in the back of the storeroom, clinging to each other and kissing fervently in the dim lantern light that peeks from behind the things obscuring them from view. Piers is hoisted into sitting on a crate, and he pulls Raihan closer with his legs when Raihan's hand starts to wander up his skirt. His breath hitches when Raihan's lips trail down his neck and he grabs the back of his coat, pressing himself closer. He swears and squirms when Raihan's teeth bear down, his hand dragging up Piers's thigh to push up his dress. 

"This thing's gonna get ruined," Piers laments as he hikes his skirt up higher, but he's less concerned than he sounds. 

Raihan barks a quick laugh. "I can wash it for you so no one finds out, don't you worry." 

"You better. Could just use your abs,  _ Mr. Washboard _ ." 

Raihan can't fight a snicker. "Have you ever done this before?"

Piers scoffs. "Not with a human. Low likelihood of me living to tell the tale unless I got as lucky as I did with you."

Raihan pauses and pulls back when he realizes he doesn't know how the hell this is supposed to work. "Uh. What now?"

Piers guides Raihan's hand to the smooth skin between his legs. "Rub." Raihan gives him a confused glance, but does as asked. Piers shifts slightly when he palms at the skin between his legs, swearing under his breath. A slit slowly begins to open and Piers squirms more as it does, little whines slipping from him intermittently. He pulls Raihan into a kiss, moaning against his lips and taking Raihan's hand and brushing his fingers against his entrance. Piers's breath catches when Raihan slowly presses a finger into him. He nearly falls backwards, catching himself with his hands and hissing when the rough wood digs into his soft palms. 

Raihan raises an eyebrow. "You alright, there?" 

"Keep going," Piers commands, shuddering and throwing his head back when Raihan's finger slides the rest of the way in. His legs twitch when Raihan starts to move, leaning down to nuzzle and kiss the side of his neck. A soft whimper slips from Piers when Raihan eases in a second finger, and he has to clamp a hand over his mouth so more don't follow. 

"You're shy, all of a sudden," Raihan notes as he works his fingers a little deeper, another shudder wracking Piers's frame. 

"Don't wanna get- nnh- caught."

Raihan laughs softly, pulling at Piers's earlobe with his teeth. "You seem to forget who runs this ship, guppy. What're they gonna do? Kick us off?" 

"They always could. They've got you ninety to one."

"Good thing my men like me, then." Something squirms against Raihan's fingers, and he glances down. Two hot pink, tapered, phallic appendages slide smoothly outward, twitching slightly from the stimulation. Raihan makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat when he sees. 

Piers pulls his hand away so he can catch his breath. "If it's too weird, we can just--"

"No-" Raihan mutters quickly under his breath, blushing profusely. "I like it. ...A lot." 

Piers blushes as well. "Oh. Well. What are you waitin' for? An invitation?" 

The only thing that betrays how excited Raihan is is the speed at which he unbuttons his breeches. Piers arches a brow when he pulls his cock out, and he doesn't have time to comment before Raihan lines it up with his entrance and the breath is sucked from his lungs. "Ready?" Piers nods, and a noise between a shriek and a moan is torn from him when Raihan starts to push in, his legs twitching against Raihan's hips. His breaths come in soft pants as he lets his head fall backwards, arching when Raihan bottoms out. Raihan kisses his exposed throat, murmuring, "You alright?" quietly. 

Piers moans his assent. "Move, love," he says after a moment, running his fingers through Raihan's locs. He huffs softly when Raihan obliges, clinging to him tighter. A hand runs up his thigh to slowly coax him into relaxing so Raihan can move better, and Piers makes a soft noise somewhere between a trill and a whine when he pulls his hips back again. "R- Raihan," Piers moans, shuddering and curling around him. "More." 

Raihan grins as he obliges. He might enjoy the sweet little whimpers and gasps Piers makes when he's trying to be quiet a bit too much. "You're cute when you're trying to clam up," he coos, tugging the shell of Piers's ear with his teeth. 

"I am  _ not _ , you- nnh." Piers's arms tighten around Raihan as he spasms around him and whines his name. "Close," he warns, panting into Raihan's shoulder. 

"So soon?" Raihan strokes one of Piers's cocks slowly, and Piers gives a strangled cry, spilling cum onto his dress and Raihan's hand. "Well. You weren't kidding." Raihan can't resist the temptation to taste it, and isn't sure how surprised he is when it tastes sort of like fresh caviar. 

Before either of them can say another word, the stairs to the cargo hold creak from the weight of someone coming down. 

"Captain?" Sebastian calls. 

"Yeah?" 

"We need you up above."

Raihan bites back a frustrated groan. "Be there in a second."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (points at raihan and laughs) haha monsterfucker  
> now. if u will excuse me. i wouldn't let myself check the kbnz or kbnzdn tags for like two God Damn months so i have some SHIT to catch up on


End file.
